


Fuss, Hush; Kiss, Shut Up

by moonmother



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M, Prince!Leo, Sexual Themes, Violence, archer!n, n/leo - Freeform, neo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 10:39:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13246485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonmother/pseuds/moonmother
Summary: The prince of the kingdom stumbles across a tree-dwelling archer; this is how they proceed.





	Fuss, Hush; Kiss, Shut Up

**Author's Note:**

> (cross-posted from lj!) (this version has been slightly edited bc i reread this 4 years later and wanted to fix some minor things for clarity sake / not drastically different, though)

The forest has never seemed so dense. All the trees blend together, a webbed network of trunks and branches. Taekwoon is sure he’s passed this stump thrice now, and that babbling brook (that only makes him want to urinate) was surely on his left an hour ago. The morning hunt went disastrously, needless to say. Now the prince of the kingdom, Taekwoon, is missing, and there are rocks in his boots, and he’s sure his horse, upon seeing its rider’s unconscious state, abandoned him immediately.

To make matters worse, the forest grows dark. The trees have begun to look like black silhouettes, packed so close together that the prince can’t see the sky. He turns in a circle. Nothing is familiar. Taekwoon grips his bow tighter, the wood cold even through his gloves.

A branch snaps above him, and Taekwoon fumbles to notch an arrow with his shaky fingers. It’s too dark to see into the tangle of branches and leaves above his head, but Taekwoon assures himself that it’s a bird. A bird snapped a branch, and there is surely nothing up there heavier than that.

Low growling sounds directly to his rear. This time Taekwoon whirls around much faster and has his bow ready much quicker. A cougar isn’t much more than fifteen yards away from him. Too close.

Taekwoon’s not a terrible shot, but no one is if ask them to aim for the side of the shed five feet away.

Taekwoon licks his lower lip and tries to steady his breathing. The odds of him getting a killing blow are close to zero –– if not zero –– and the cougar is much too close for him to climb the nearest tree in escape. And that’s when Taekwoon remembers cougars most definitely can climb trees.

The cougar sinks lower to the ground, readying it’s powerful haunches to spring at Taekwoon, and Taekwoon grips onto his bow tighter. Too tight. He’s about to unleash the arrow when a slow whine comes from the cougar, and it drops to the ground as if suddenly overcome with sleep. Except an arrow is sticking through it’s skull, coming out through the white of one eye, and Taekwoon can’t see but he’s sure blood is pooling from the mouth.

“I didn’t know if you were ever going to shoot.” The voice comes from above, and Taekwoon’s back to craning his neck to see through dark branches. “So I did it for you.” There’s an obvious grin to the speaker’s voice.

Finally, Taekwoon spots a long leg swinging over the side of a branch, and he follows the length of the leg up to see a grinning boy-man. Boy because the face seems so young, man because the look in the eyes spells nothing of innocence. Taekwoon is conflicted.

“Who are you?”

“Who am I?” The person in the branches stands, and Taekwoon wonders how he doesn’t fall. “You’re the one walking in the forest, under the tree I sit in, almost die, and now you’re asking me who I am?”

“Yes.”

“Hakyeon. But you don’t have to bother with your name. I know who you are.”

Taekwoon blinks. “And who am I?”

“Your clothes give you away.”

Taekwoon supposes no one other than royalty would wear his leather boots and the high-collared shirt with embroidered sleeves –– and corresponding engraved cuff-links –– on a hunting trip. He’s expensive. “Alright then,” Taekwoon says and starts to walk away.

“And where are you going?” Hakyeon’s voice seems to be following Taekwoon, like he’s dancing through the treetops, and Taekwoon’s not sure if he finds that amazing or annoying.

“I’m getting out of here. I’ve been looking for my hunting party for the better part of a day.”

Hakyeon laughs rather loudly. “You’re lost.”

“I’m not lost; they are.”

“I’d be more than happy to show you the way out.”

Taekwoon stops walking.

“But it will have to wait for the morning. I’m afraid there’ll be no way to see anything in the next hour.”

“And that means…?”

Taekwoon thinks he can see Hakyeon’s white smile through the leaves. “A stay at my estate.”

Climbing through trees is definitely a new experience for the prince. He’s not used to being very far off the ground, and balancing on branches smaller at times than the width of his foot is a harrowing experience. Because, as Hakyeon explains to Taekwoon, this “estate” of his resides in the trees.

Very soon Taekwoon is inside a house high off the ground, with a cup of tea in his hand. Taekwoon wants to ask if it’s safe to keep a fire in a wooden home in a tree in a forest, but Hakyeon can jump from limb to limb and shoot cougars in the eye –– he’s not to be questioned. At the moment, anyway.

“How does our country’s beloved prince manage to get himself lost? I thought royalty rides in massive groups.” Hakyeon raises his eyebrows above the rim of his tea cup. His dark bangs lie tussled on his forehead, parting slightly to reveal the bemused brows. His cheeks and the tip of his nose are tinged pink from the cold, matching the dainty flowers painted on the set of tea cups they use.

Taekwoon sets his own cup down on the table where they sit. “We were pursuing game. I got too far ahead of the group.”

Hakyeon gives Taekwoon a look that says “go on.”

With pursed lips, Taekwoon gives the rest of the story. “And my head came into contact with a low-lying branch. Knocked from my saddle.”

Hakyeon claps his hands together, laughs filling the tree-home. “That’s perfect. The kingdom’s heir downed by a stick.”

“Yes, irony,” Taekwoon’s voice cuts through the bubbling of Hakyeon’s. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Hakyeon points a finger at Taekwoon. “That is ironic. Ha.”

Taekwoon’s not sure why he agreed to come into Hakyeon’s home, but he does know that this tea tastes wonderful, and if it’s poisoned it’ll be a much preferable death than being ripped to shreds by a cougar.

Hakyeon seems to be reading his mind. “You came here with me. Why?”

“I don’t know you,” Taekwoon says simply, “but you don’t seem dangerous.” The words are barely out of his mouth when an arrow is between Taekwoon’s eyes, a breath away from touching his skin, and he failed to see Hakyeon draw one. In fact, his holster is by the doorway. Has Hakyeon been keeping one close this whole time? “Toward humans, at least,” Taekwoon finishes, daring to keep sipping his tea.

“You either are too arrogant or too brave.” Hakyeon smiles and takes the arrow back to his side of the table, admiring the tip in the candlelight. “You do seem brave, prince, but you do have a way of carrying yourself. Arrogance fits you.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

“I’m not flattering you, prince.”

“Then don’t smile while complimenting me.”

Hakyeon sits back in his seat and almost starts smiling again. To distract himself, Taekwoon takes another sip of tea to find that it’s all gone. He’s disappointed. “I have killed before. Does that not make you wary?”

“It makes me wary that you live so high from the ground. It makes me wary that you only made enough of this tea for one serving.” Taekwoon tries to not heave a frustrated sigh at that fact. “The idea that you’ve killed before is obvious. Even as disparaging as my hunting skills are, I am not an idiot. You look like you have weak allegiances.”

Hakyeon scoffs, eyes widening. “I do?”

“Very weak.” Taekwoon’s very aware Hakyeon could kill him at any point, but he hasn’t yet, and Taekwoon has his doubts that Hakyeon will. It would be senseless for Hakyeon to have saved him from a cougar to kill him for an unknown personal vendetta. “Are you very sure there isn’t any more tea?”

Hakyeon leans forward again, arrow still in his hands. “I am very sure.”

Taekwoon sighs.

“You have a lot of nerve.” The archer’s eyes flicker from Taekwoon’s down to the prince’s slim hands, clutching the tea cup. “And you’re very self-aware. You know the power you have over others.”

For once, Taekwoon’s not sure what Hakyeon means. “I don’t follow.”

“You can’t be serious.”

But Taekwoon is very serious. Most like to think he suffers from a chronic case of it, and Taekwoon wouldn’t disagree. He stays quiet.

Hakyeon’s eyes widen further. “You don’t even know….” He scoffs. “You’re a wonder, you really are. I never imagined that the prince would turn out like this.” He rubs a thumb on the side of his chin while studying Taekwoon across the table.

Taekwoon wonders what he means; so much like what? To shift the focus, he asks, “You’re a mercenary, then?”

“Yes.”

Taekwoon chews on his lower lip for a moment before asking, “Money is your vice?”

Hakyeon sets the arrow down on the table, in-between them both, and meets eyes with Taekwoon again. “I’m not sure if money can be considered a vice in these times. It’s hard to have enough to get by. Me taking sides due to who pays more is me finding a way to survive. Not all of us can wear our wealth.” The corner of his mouth twitches upward, and Taekwoon fights the urge to lean forward and mimic Hakyeon’s movements.

“I knew your allegiances were weak.”

“Guilty.”

Taekwoon puts his tea cup down and traces a finger around the rim. “And you let money influence all your decisions?”

“Money’s a terrible master.”

Taekwoon’s finger stops, and he studies Hakyeon’s face. “And if you were offered a different master?”

Hakyeon doesn’t need a moment to catch on; he’s been following the conversation the whole way here. “At what price?” His smile is sweet like caramelized sugar. He puts a hand underneath his chin, the amused look never leaving his face.

“Permanent residence. Your needs taken care of.”

“Every need, every want, that I have?” The toe of Hakyeon’s shoe touches Taekwoon’s boot, and Taekwoon’s foot jumps away from the other’s.

“It’ll be arranged.”

Hakyeon almost purrs when he says, “That sounds lovely.” A look crosses his face, and his eyebrows furrow a bit. “It’s a long way to the palace.”

“Yes, it is.”

“If you get tired, do your subjects normally carry you?”

Taekwoon works his jaw; maybe this was a mistake. “Are you offering?”

“I was actually wondering if it’d be too much to ask you to carry me.”

 

  
After a full week at the castle, Taekwoon’s sure Hakyeon will never, ever fit into the life. If Taekwoon could compare it to a painting, a wonderful work of art with all the intricate details, Hakyeon is the splotch of color in the corner. What almost looks like a mistake.

“I don’t trust anyone here. They keep looking at me like I’ve committed a crime.”

Taekwoon looks side-long at Hakyeon, suppressing the smile that wants to form. “You did accuse the gardener of horrible things.”

“He was staring at me for rather too long.”

Taekwoon doesn’t mention that it was probably because the first thing Hakyeon did upon seeing the palace gardens was criticize it. The placement of flowers and the general layout. “Well, word does travel fast in high society.”

But rather than subtracting from the painting, the splotch of color makes Taekwoon step back and look a little closer.

Taekwoon’s initial intention of bringing Hakyeon back home was to be for his eldest sister, a beautiful girl in need of a bodyguard as suitors poured in. However, after the performance Hakyeon gives in the courtyard, hitting targets with his arrows that no one in the regular service can manage, it’s decided he’s much more suited to protect the rising heir to the throne. Taekwoon’s plan is quietly revised.

The prince ends up looking out for Hakyeon rather than the other way around. There’s always sensitive nobles to keep Hakyeon away from, and Taekwoon is rather prepared for the task since he is a slightly less sensitive noble. It’s often just Hakyeon and Taekwoon staring at nothing for hours on end, no entertainment to be found, which gives Hakyeon ideas.

“Can you even shoot an arrow?”

“Of course.” Taekwoon bristles at the comment because he can hear Hakyeon’s underlying jab rather than innocent wonder. “I’m not incompetent.”

“Show me, then.”

“What?”

Hakyeon grins, white teeth flashing in the sun. The two are on the castle grounds, guards not too far off in any direction but far enough away that Hakyeon’s jibes can’t be heard. Taekwoon still takes issue with Hakyeon’s delegation to his service rather than his sister’s, but he does enjoy the company––  
  
His thoughts are disrupted by Hakyeon leaning in closer and handing Taekwoon his own bow and a single arrow. With his sleeves rolled to his elbows, Hakyeon challenges, “Show me, prince.”

Taekwoon’s insides broil, and he inhales deeply. “This bow isn’t mine; it’s not made to my preferences.”

“Oh, so sorry.” Hakyeon’s sarcasm overrules words that would sound sympathetic from another. “But why don’t you humor me. Unless you’re not up to it––”

Taekwoon snatches the arrow out of Hakyeon’s hands. He notches it with Hakyeon’s eyes trained on him, very intently, and Taekwoon can feel sweat build between his shoulder blades. He blames the sunlight.

He’s about to pull back and loose the arrow when a loud voice interrupts the calm. “And what’s all this?”

Taekwoon turns to see Jaehwan, his cousin, waltzing up to him and Hakyeon, and Taekwoon knows this can’t spell anything good. “What are you doing?” he asks, but his cousin ignores him, taking a large bite out of the apple in his hand.

“What are you up to? Looks fun.” His words are directed at Taekwoon, but Jaehwan keeps flicking his eyes to Hakyeon. He’s curious, Taekwoon knows; that’s probably the only reason he’s here because he finally has a chance to assess Hakyeon or something silly like that.

Hakyeon chirps before Taekwoon can explain, “His majesty was going to show me his excellent shooting skills.”

Jaehwan shoots Taekwoon a perplexed look. “Your aim is awful.” Taekwoon reloads the arrow into the bow and lets it soar through the air, planting itself into the bark of sapling tree. Jaehwan laughs loudly. “Alright, but I’ll guess that you were aiming over there.” He points about seven feet to the tree’s left, the spot directly in front of Taekwoon. “Right?” Hakyeon laughs at that, and Taekwoon makes to hit Jaehwan with the bow. Jaehwan scampers away.

“Let me try.” Hakyeon plucks his bow out of Taekwoon’s hands before the prince is aware it’s not in his grasp. “You,” Hakyeon gestures to Jaehwan, “uh….”

“Jaehwan,” Taekwoon supplies.

“Yes, thank you. Can you please stand over there, back to any of the trees. Pick whichever you like.”

Visible excitement ripples in Jaehwan’s eyes, and Taekwoon folds his arms together. Bitterness settles over him as Jaehwan trots to the appointed tree, pressing himself against it. “How’s this?”

“Wonderful,” Hakyeon shouts back. Jaehwan’s a generous distance from them. “Now would you like to place that apple of yours on your kind head?”

Jaehwan’s excitement is plain on his face as he takes another bite out of the apple before balancing it on his head. He and Hakyeon grin at the other, and Taekwoon frowns. “What are you doing?”

Hakyeon offers no response besides loading an arrow with leisure and aiming it at Taekwoon's cousin. The guards finally realize what’s happening and start to protest, riding in their horses to –– what, stop him? –– and Taekwoon understands, as he watches the guardsmen flounder about to get to Jaehwan, why he needs Hakyeon.

The arrow flies with remarkable speed toward Jaehwan, hurtling through the air, and smashes the apple. Juice and bits of the apple fly everywhere, all over Jaehwan’s head, but he’s cackling, and Hakyeon wears a smirk.

“That’s what you’ll be able to do when I’m done with you.”

 

  
After the show with the apple, the guardsmen have begun to resent Hakyeon as well, and it seems like more people dislike him than enjoy his presence. Taekwoon is decisively in the latter category. Unfortunately.

But so is Jaehwan.

“That was so great. Did you see the guards’ faces?” Jaehwan’s still laughing about the arrow and apple ordeal. “They were dumbfounded.”

Taekwoon hums in agreement as Hakyeon’s knowing smile blinks through his head like a rapid moving picture. So Hakyeon was showing him. That and how dismal his skills are compared to the expert bowman. Astounding.

“He’s a trip.”

Taekwoon looks at his cousin.

“That Hakyeon fellow. Really amazing.” He leans in close to Taekwoon and whispers, “Everyone here’s too stuffy, anyway.” Moving away, he coos, “And you’re his top priority.”

Taekwoon draws in a sharp breath at that. “Be quiet.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about that, too––”

“Jaehwan.”

The warning in Taekwoon’s voice must signal something to Jaehwan because he clams up immediately, but Jaehwan doesn’t stop giggling at him, and Taekwoon’s sure the family tree will become a little bit smaller by the end of the day.

 

  
But this means that Taekwoon’s become aware of just how much he’s taken with Hakyeon. The man is attractive –– so much –– yet that’s just the beginning.

“Don’t squirm.”

Taekwoon tightens his arms around Hakyeon’s neck, hissing out a breath. “I’m…not.”

Hakyeon hoists Taekwoon farther up his back because the prince keeps slipping, and he grunts in disapproval. “Yes, you are. I’ll drop you right here and now if you do not desist with your petulance.”

Taekwoon rests his forehead on the angle created by his arm and Hakyeon’s head and grimaces. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he grips Hakyeon tighter. “Hurry, please.”

“Alright, alright.” Hakyeon feigns a casual tone, but Taekwoon can hear the worry in his voice, and that goes straight to Taekwoon’s heart. “Where’re those people who call themselves your guards? Mercy,” Hakyeon complains.

Taekwoon peeks a glance around them and can see no one in the gardens. Unusual. Taekwoon hardly gets a moment to himself, and here he is, in a great need of help, with no one to assist him. Besides Hakyeon, that is.

Hakyeon struggles under Taekwoon’s weight. As proficient as his shooting skills are, they should not be compared to his physical strength, but even though Hakyeon wobbles and Taekwoon doesn’t feel secure in this position, the archer is doing his best to find his way back through the maze of bushes and trees to inside.

Taekwoon wasn’t supposed to trip and fall and hear a crack come from his ankle. Hakyeon wasn’t supposed to be chasing him either, but he did, and Taekwoon could not let himself be caught. This is all Hakyeon’s fault.

“I thought…you were supposed to take…care of me?”

Hakyeon’s arms tighten around Taekwoon’s legs, and Taekwoon can hear the snap in his words. “I am. What does it look like I’m doing right now?”

“You didn’t have to chase me––”

“Why were you running?”

They bicker for a few moments despite the fact that Taekwoon has shooting pain traveling up his leg, sweat beading from every pore and tears in the corners of his eyes. He buries his head back into Hakyeon when he can’t take it any longer.

Hakyeon pops out of the garden and shouts for help. But the area is deserted. “Unbelievable!” Hakyeon’s outrage is catching, and Taekwoon feels resentment build in his body. Hakyeon walks them to the door. “Hold on to me for a moment,” Hakyeon breathes, and Taekwoon wants to know what exactly Hakyeon thinks he’s been doing this whole time, but Taekwoon saves his words. The archer lets one of Taekwoon’s legs go and uses the free hand to pound on the door separating the outside from the inside. There’s no response. The door is locked.

Hakyeon pounds three more times before returning his hand back to supporting Taekwoon. He hasn’t said a word since his last outburst. A bead of Hakyeon’s sweat makes Taekwoon jerk his face away from the other’s neck, forcing his head up. Hakyeon kicks the door with no response.

An odd feeling twists Taekwoon’s stomach.

Aside from Hakyeon, it’s like all noise has been silenced. The chatter of birds, the buzz of insects –– the creatures have left them alone as well.

Taekwoon’s about to ask a question when Hakyeon spins so that Taekwoon’s back is slammed against the door, and Hakyeon’s front faces the enormity of the garden. Hakyeon’s body shields most of Taekwoon, and that’s when Taekwoon starts to realize what Hakyeon has. Someone made the decision to pull the guards away.

“Hakyeon.”

“Hush.”

“No, Hakyeon––”

“I said, hush.” He’s serious, and Taekwoon feels his heartbeat start to climb higher and higher. His ankle throbs in a violent manner, but he doesn’t dare make a noise; he can tell Hakyeon’s listening, but there’s nothing to hear. Taekwoon bites his lip.

Hakyeon clears his throat. “Taekwoon, if I––”

At that moment, one of the double doors is opened, and the two are thrown off-balance, their weight leaning backwards. But Hakyeon uses his other great skill, his inhuman sense of balance, and somehow rights them, stumbling inside the doors. Taekwoon lets out an embarrassing squeak that he hopes goes unheard in the shuffle of feet and bodies.

“What in the heavens––”

Hakyeon straightens as best as he can –– bless him –– and pants out, “Shut the door. Shut it now.”

It’s a gardener that stands there, but Taekwoon can see two guardsmen stationed on the other side of the oval-shaped room who realize there is something very wrong. Hakyeon’s voice rises, and he’s shouting to the entirety of the room, inhabited by just the two guards and one gardener, about how the prince needs medical attention this very moment, not to go into the garden, didn’t someone hear them at the door?

It’s all a whirlwind for Taekwoon, gasping into the back of Hakyeon’s neck. The pain in his foot is much worse than it was a short while ago, and he fights to keep calm. “Please,” Taekwoon whimpers into Hakyeon’s ear, and the focus is turned back to the prince. He’s taken from Hakyeon and carried through hallways with Hakyeon flitting around his side the whole time, and Taekwoon tries to force a frown at the older before letting his eyes slip shut again.

He swears he’ll never break a bone again.

 

  
Prince Taekwoon with a broken ankle is much more demanding than Prince Taekwoon with an unbroken ankle. He sends maids away in droves with the same order to leave him alone, not letting anyone visit if they don’t have food in their hands; his room becomes harder to get into than the king’s. The king visits his son a few times during that first week, carefully asking about what actually happened in the garden, and Taekwoon tells him the truth every single time.

“I fell.”

“And that’s the truth?”

“Yes.”

The king, for some reason, doesn’t believe the story but dares not to push his son further. Taekwoon asks about why no one was in the garden, why it was deserted, and the king has no answer for that, looking a bit perplexed as to why that is. Taekwoon wonders how much that frightens him.

There’s only one person other than the royal family allowed to give the prince company in his room, and it’s the same one detested by most of palace’s inhabitants.

“I just brought you two different books.”

Taekwoon raises a brow and pushes both choices away. “I’ve already read these. Bring me another.”

Hakyeon looks like he’ll burst any second. “No,” he finally decides. “No, I won’t cater to your every whim, dearest, most magnificent, prince.” Hakyeon hurls the title at Taekwoon like it’s supposed to offend him, and it hasn’t gotten quite to that point yet, but Taekwoon is very aware of how nerve-plucking it is to hear Hakyeon’s voice twisted with a sneer and demean his position.

But he also sort of likes it.

Taekwoon shrugs and waves a hand. He pulls the covers over his head, retreating to the bland view of cream colored blankets. He blocks out Hakyeon and his tan skin and dark eyes and tight-fitting trousers, and Taekwoon tries to ignore his presence altogether; it doesn’t work.

“You’re being a brat,” Hakyeon announces to the room, and Taekwoon rolls his eyes under the blankets. That much is obvious. Frustrated at the lack of response, Hakyeon endeavors once more to get a rise out of the prince but fails.

Taekwoon feels his bed dip and alarm rings through him. He shuts his eyes to pretend that he’s not here, that he’s under the warmth of his blankets and nothing can hurt him under here, but even he knows that Hakyeon doesn’t mean harm. Taekwoon, nevertheless, acts invisible.

Hakyeon climbs farther up on the bed –– it feels like he’s on his hands and knees –– and only stops when he’s at Taekwoon’s head. Cool air hits Taekwoon’s face as a bit of the blanket, enough to only show Taekwoon’s eyes, is pulled back, and Hakyeon’s face is right there. Right. There.

“Taekwoon.” Hakyeon’s voice is quiet but firm, and Taekwoon feels his insides tremble. He’s too close. “I’m ready to speak my mind if you’ll let me.”

Taekwoon knows his answer should be negative, but he nods his head –– damn everything.

Hakyeon doesn’t move from his spot, keeps his proximity, and lets his eyes drift down from Taekwoon’s to his lips and then back up to the eyes. “When we were in the garden––”

“I know.”

“No,” Hakyeon quickly objects. “I’m sorry you reacted like that; I didn’t mean to startle you….”

Taekwoon’s memory cycles back to the garden to when Hakyeon grabbed Taekwoon’s wrist, lifted the younger’s hand to his mouth, and pressed his lips to the skin. Hakyeon was joking around, but Taekwoon over-reacted, back-pedaling, and Hakyeon was in pursuit because it’s his job. He has to stay next to the prince and not let him do stupid things like run off. But Taekwoon really did trip and fall, managing to injure himself. He didn’t lie to his father about that.

“Are you,” Taekwoon mumbles through the blanket. “Are you sorry?”

Hakyeon’s eyes darken, and Taekwoon can feel himself shrink further into his bed. “I’m sorry it ended with you hurting yourself,” Hakyeon admits slowly. “I’m sorry you’re just now catching on, but I’m not sorry,” Hakyeon leans closer to Taekwoon’s face, “as I’d like to do it again.”

Taekwoon feels the vibrations of Hakyeon’s words penetrate him, and his chest catches as his breath stutters. But he’s distracted by Hakyeon’s lips and manages to get his breathing back on track. Before Taekwoon lets himself surrender completely, he has to say, “But, you want to know something?”

“Hmm?”

“I caught on a long time ago.”

Hakyeon pushes the blanket away from Taekwoon’s mouth and plants his lips there. “Shut up,” he speaks into parted lips, and Taekwoon’s happy to oblige.

 

  
“I am trying,” Taekwoon whines under the hot sun. His ankle is nearly recovered, enough for him to place some weight on it, and Hakyeon is ruthless, starting archery lessons immediately.

“Well, you’re doing a bad job of it. Please, act like this is important.”

Taekwoon purses his lips and controls his desire to throttle Hakyeon. Instead, he loads his bow and steadies his arm, lets the arrow fly, and gets another disapproving noise from his bodyguard. “I’m done,” Taekwoon decides.

“Don’t quit on my behalf; we were actually getting somewhere today.”

But they weren’t. Taekwoon still can’t land a hit remotely close to his target, and he feels too much pressure with the weight of Hakyeon and everyone else’s eyes on them. Ever since what happened in the garden, Taekwoon hasn’t been able to breathe whenever he leaves his rooms with all the security he’s surrounded by.

Hakyeon frowns. “Where are you going?”

The heir to the throne starts to hobble across the grass, his gait lopsided and awkward, and he can hear Hakyeon chuckle behind him. It only further provokes Taekwoon. In a few well-placed strides from Hakyeon, the older’s beside him, carrying his bow and Taekwoon’s in his arms, a grin on his face. “That’s okay; we can try again tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to try tomorrow.”

Hakyeon bumps his hip with Taekwoon’s. “I’m sure.”

But Taekwoon is serious –– he always is –– and can’t stand the thought of being degraded in front of everyone again and again and over again. He hates showing off how terrible his skills are, and now he’s just in a bad mood. “Leave me alone,” he grates out. He tries to limp a little faster than Hakyeon.

“Oh, look who’s being childish.”

Taekwoon makes it back inside the castle and starts the long trek to his room. By the time he reaches it, he’s exhausted, his leg aching, and this probably isn’t such a good idea to work his still healing ankle like this. Hakyeon follows him inside.

Taekwoon shoos everyone away but doesn’t bother with Hakyeon because it’s no use; even if he told him to leave Hakyeon wouldn’t.

Once alone, Taekwoon falls onto his bed, burying his face in his blankets. He feels nimble fingers come up behind him that start to pluck apart his outfit, and Taekwoon, with his good foot, lashes out. “Okay, okay!” Hakyeon dances away from the bed, finally registering that he’s not on Taekwoon’s good side.

Hakyeon waits a few full minutes before saying, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

Bravely, Hakyeon crawls onto the bed and hovers over Taekwoon’s face-down, motionless body. It’s not much, but the kiss to the back of Taekwoon’s head finally gets a reaction out of the prince, and Hakyeon smiles. Taekwoon turns his head up at Hakyeon and is about to complain at him, but Hakyeon leans in and presses a clumsy kiss to Taekwoon’s oddly angled mouth.

Soon Hakyeon has Taekwoon pinned to his headboards, and this is the farthest they’ve gotten by far. In those weeks of inactivity, Taekwoon and Hakyeon have shared kisses, mainly initiated by Hakyeon, but this is the first time that Hakyeon’s been in his lap, been panting in his ear.

A look into Hakyeon’s eyes would prove that the archer is as dangerous as ever, that Taekwoon’s first impression wasn’t wrong, and he clamps his own eyes shut.

Hakyeon’s fingers are trying to work at Taekwoon’s clothes, and this is new, too. Hakyeon’s always trying to disrobe him but never with the pleads of “Taekwoon, please–– oh mercy––” Taekwoon can’t take it.

Just when Taekwoon’s feeling adventurous enough to start peeling at Hakyeon’s clothes, the archer is skittering away faster than Taekwoon can comprehend the situation. Was it something he did? Taekwoon has an apology building up in his throat when he realizes that Hakyeon isn’t angry or– or anything.

He’s standing in the middle of the room, the collar of his shirt askew, eyes wide, cheeks rosy –– and there’s his hair that’s mussed up in a funny shape –– but a knot builds in Taekwoon’s stomach. Hakyeon, beautiful and terrible, has his eyes darting around the room, like he’s looking for something, like he’s scared of something. His hands dart to his back, where his bow should be, but it’s at the door and Taekwoon’s still flush with the headboard, on the other side. Hakyeon’s caught in the middle.

He looks at Taekwoon and opens his mouth, his eyes wide with fear, but nothing can come out before there’s a loud crash, and the prince’s chambers are engulfed in noise.

Hakyeon flings a vase at the first intruder, catching him unaware, and uses that moment to grab his bow, but he’s too slow for the second intruder has his sights on Hakyeon as well. Taekwoon yells before the sword even slices Hakyeon. An arc of blood spurts through the air.

There are three attackers altogether. Where they came from, Taekwoon’s not sure, but he does know that they mean him harm, and they’re fair game. Leaping from his bed, Taekwoon grabs the closest one with the sword from behind, stupid as it is. The man gasps as Taekwoon doesn’t loosen his grip around his throat, and the two collide into the wall as the swordsman waves his weapon about in an attempt to shake Taekwoon off. There’s a glint of silver, and Taekwoon shuts his eyes as the sword comes back to strike him in the head, but there’s a thump, a gasp of gurgled breath, and the man goes limp in his arms. An arrow sticks out from a chink in the armor.

Hakyeon’s breathing heavily but already has moved on, shooting one more attacker before reloading to kill the third. Blood drips steadily from the wound he sustained, but it hardly hinders him. Hardly, however, isn’t good enough. Hakyeon doesn’t load the arrow in time and the last one of the intruders is already too close.

Hakyeon is turned so he’s facing Taekwoon with the last intruder in-between them, and Taekwoon feels his feet move before he registers it. The assassin has Hakyeon defenseless, bow being used to ward off the sword from running him through, and Hakyeon’s backed up to the wall. There’ll soon be nowhere left to run.

Taekwoon snatches up the gold-laden jewelry box from his dresser, the one that an aunt of his gifted him a winter or two ago, and the weight in his hands spurs him on. He lifts the jewelry box high over his head, taking limping, running steps, and his momentum lets him bring it down on the man’s head. The shock gives Hakyeon a moment’s advantage, and he disarms the intruder, using the sword to end its owner’s life.

Hakyeon asks him a question, but Taekwoon doesn’t even hear it. He’s still staring at the bodies on his floor. “Taekwoon,” Hakyeon repeats. “Are you alright?” He looks at the bloody jewelry box that’s slipped out of Taekwoon’s hold and onto the floor. “Sorry about that; it’s ruined now.”

“I always hated it. Don’t apologize.”

There must be something in Taekwoon’s expression because Hakyeon gives him a tight look. He strides over, places a hand on his cheek, but is already moving past him. “Stay right here.” The order is soft but firm, and Taekwoon doesn’t think he can disobey it. His knees can barely hold him upright, ankle throbbing once more.

Hakyeon busies himself inspecting the rest of the room before he moves into the outer-chambers and inspects those, but Taekwoon finally decides he can’t stomach the stench of the blood and watching the lifeless bodies. He moves from his bedroom to where Hakyeon is. If Hakyeon’s noticed he’s not keeping the bodies company any longer, he doesn’t say a word (and Hakyeon has definitely noticed).

No matter what bravado Taekwoon fakes in the face of danger, he can’t keep it up now. He’s a bundle of shakes and nerves. Hakyeon keeps looking at him apologetically, like this is somehow his fault, and it’s only when Hakyeon’s eyes linger a little longer that Taekwoon starts to laugh because he realizes Hakyeon’s shirt is still undone.

How long ago was it that Hakyeon was kissing him?

“You need to breathe,” Hakyeon tells Taekwoon, hands on his shoulders. “Sit down here. Look at me –– there you go. Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“No life-threatening injuries or anything?” Taekwoon doesn’t say a word and lets Hakyeon comb him over, raising his arms and checking him out. “Nothing more than a few bruises, I think,” he concludes.

Taekwoon’s eyes zero in on Hakyeon’s shoulder. At the blood. “You’re bleeding.”

“Yes, I know. We need to get someone in here and you out.” Hakyeon leaves Taekwoon’s side even though internally he’s crying out, no, don’t go, and Hakyeon’s shouting into the hall. A flood of guards soon pours in and the noise level increases one-hundred percent. Hakyeon orders people around, calling out names of people that Taekwoon’s never bothered with, and more than his lingering shock is his overwhelming respect for Hakyeon.

And when Hakyeon becomes pale in the face, woozy from blood-loss, is when he finally lets himself be removed from the room. When Taekwoon sees two men drag Hakyeon out, to bring him to the hospital ward for the castle guards, he stands up as well. He can’t sit here with the horrid stench inhabiting his room while Hakyeon doesn’t, and he doesn’t protest when a large number of men follow him.

To the hospital ward, it is.

 

  
Hakyeon’s wound isn’t a very deep one. He’s to refrain from moving his shoulder lest he reopen it, but other than that it’s a waiting game to see how long it’ll be before Hakyeon can shoot an arrow.

“I’ve had worse,” Hakyeon grumbles when the women finish changing his bandages. Taekwoon’s seated at his bedside, and he’s been mute for the whole conversation, letting Hakyeon babble himself senseless. “You should see the scar across my middle.” With his good arm, Hakyeon draws a line over his stomach. “I thought everything was going to spill out of me.” He lets loose high-pitched laughter that sounds only a little forced. Taekwoon’s lips twitch upwards. “And you would have seen it,” Hakyeon goes on, “if we’d actually––”

Taekwoon slams a hand over man’s mouth.

They’re never alone. Taekwoon and Hakyeon don’t get a moment to themselves, for good reason; two instances that they’ve been completely alone have gone horribly wrong, both ending up with injuries. It doesn’t mean either are happy about it, though.

Hakyeon lays in his bed for days on end, under strict orders to –– not –– move –– an inch. But he’s restless, and he can’t stand not doing anything. Taekwoon knows it eases Hakyeon’s mind when he’s next to him –– one less thing to worry about, like having Taekwoon in his line of sight counts as protecting him –– but Taekwoon doesn’t know what to do without Hakyeon, and that’s the truth. He’s forgotten what it’s like to sit on his own for days on end, silence wrapping him up, and Taekwoon doesn’t miss that too much.

Taekwoon can stand a few hours staring at the ceiling, but any more than that and he’s at Hakyeon’s bedside, listening to him talk and talk and talk. Taekwoon also thinks it’s in the medicine they give him because sometimes Hakyeon says things that Taekwoon never expected to hear.

“I used to romance a fellow with very long legs. Unpleasant, the whole thing.”

“I wish I was better so I could show you my scars–– Ow. Don’t hurt the incapable.”

“I love you.”

The last one was gently slipped into a long speech of how Hakyeon enjoyed Taekwoon even though “he was a black cloud of negativity,” and the confession didn’t seem to weigh as much as those three words normally do –– so casually said. Taekwoon could strangle Hakyeon.

Or he would if he couldn’t feel his stomach leap and heart beat fast and his body tingle just at the notion.

“I hope they slip him a higher dosage,” Jaehwan confesses one evening. This is how bad it’s gotten; Taekwoon’s been reduced to keep his cousin company (although it’s truly the other way around). “I was there yesterday just to say hello––”

“Don’t lie.”

“Alright, so I heard about the medicine they’re funneling him, and, my god, he’s hysterical. Told me to lose my hair and how I should –– well, it was something very rude –– but I was laughing so hard, I can’t even care about that. I think I should see him again.”

Taekwoon grimaces.

“But when’s the last time you’ve seen him? He asked about you. A lot. He said that he hoped I wasn’t your replacement because, well, my state of dress isn’t as ‘impressive’ as yours and something about he’d rather jump out the window than kiss me.”

Taekwoon’s cheeks color, but he remains neutral in tone. “That’s a relief. It’d be such a shame if the prince’s bodyguard was romancing the prince’s cousin.”

“Humor, you have it.” Jaehwan rubs his upper lip, though, and looks side-long at Taekwoon. “But it’s really curious,” he starts. “Makes me wonder about things––”

“There’s nothing to wonder about.”

Jaehwan shrugs. “Of course. Why would there be. Nothing curious at all about the prince’s bodyguard issuing declarations of love toward none other than the prince. I was getting ready to prepare my own; I was beginning to feel left out.” Jaehwan’s words are cut off as Taekwoon grabs his cousin by the front.

“Tell no one,” he bites out, but this only makes Jaehwan laugh. Damn him.

“I don’t think you have to worry about me,” he smiles. “I’d be more worried about the one laid up in bed.”

Taekwoon makes the journey to Hakyeon as fast as he can. His ankle is feeling much better, but it twinges at times, and Taekwoon will risk re-injuring it if it means he can prevent Hakyeon from spouting off things he doesn’t mean. The medicine is obviously too much for him; he’ll have to speak with someone about that.

“Oh, there you are.”

Taekwoon stands beside Hakyeon’s bed, and Hakyeon looks completely fine, nowhere near as “out of his mind” as Jaehwan made him out to be. “Hello,” Taekwoon greets. Hakyeon’s bandages haven’t been changed yet, and he’s got a cup of something clear on his small bedside stand. It’s not alcohol –– must be water. Hakyeon blinks at him.

“Yes, hello.”

Taekwoon’s very confused now. “I thought….”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Hakyeon raises a brow, but Taekwoon can barely tell. Hakyeon’s hair is getting so long. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

The wheels start turning in Taekwoon’s head. “I’ve only not been here for three days.”

“An eternity for someone trapped in bed. With nothing to do. Depending upon entertainment from their only visitor.”

And it clicks. “You sent Jaehwan after me –– oh, you’re––”

“Yes, I’m lonely. And bored.”

Taekwoon is aware that there are ears listening in. They’re not close, but they’re at the door, and Taekwoon leans closer into Hakyeon’s space, hushing his words so everyone doesn’t have to know what’s on his mind. “You lived in the forest. You lived alone, how are you lonely now?”

Hakyeon, with his good hand, pushes back his nest of hair. “Loneliness and being alone aren’t synonyms.”

“I know that––”

“I don’t think so.”

A pause occurs in the conversation, and Taekwoon fights for a response. “I– I’m not lonely, Hakyeon.” The notion is ridiculous. Not unthought of, though, the small part of him says.

Hakyeon smiles at Taekwoon, glancing once at accompaniment of guards at the door, and looks back up into Taekwoon’s eyes. “I didn’t say you were.” But that doesn’t stop Hakyeon from pulling Taekwoon’s hand under his blankets and holding it there so he can squeeze it tight.

 

  
What they have together begins to weigh heavy on Taekwoon’s heart. His chest constricts at the mention of Hakyeon, and he’s not sure how serious Hakyeon is about loving him –– how could he? –– and if this is something casual, an experiment Hakyeon has about what it’s like to flirt with royalty, Taekwoon admits to his own self that he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

So Taekwoon comes clean.

“Why do you like me?” Taekwoon’s question is sudden, but Hakyeon doesn’t look caught off-guard, like he’s been expecting it.

Hakyeon tells him, “You wear a blank expression, yet I’ve managed to unravel every one of your moods in these past months.”

“You like me because….” Taekwoon makes to get up, but Hakyeon laughs begging him to stay.

“Alright, that’s not entirely true. That’s not the single reason.” Hakyeon shakes his hair out of his eyes, tugging on the thin blanket of his. “Your reading collection is extensive. You don’t bend to others whims despite your own inabilities, and I find you admirable.”

“Admirable?”

Hakyeon nods.

“Well, I don’t––”

“And,” Hakyeon cuts across, “you put up with me. You’re trusting and loyal. I used to be that way.”

Taekwoon looks away. “You take your job seriously,” he brings up, in an attempt to compliment the man. “Thank you for that.”

Hakyeon smiles. “Your father pays a large sum to help me help you.” But as soon as the words come out, Hakyeon knows its the wrong thing to say. He sighs. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Taekwoon feels his mood dip anyway.

“Taekwoon, I,” Hakyeon motions so the prince will lean close to him, and he confesses, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. Maybe my reason for coming was for the money and the possibility of figuring you out, but….”

“But.”

“I haven’t figured everything out. I try, and–– I’m trying to say that I want to do this. Be at your side and hear you say nothing and everything, help you when you’re hurt, keep you safe from whatever dangers a person of your status goes through.” He smiles. “I feel like I’m reciting bad poetry.”

“You are,” Taekwoon says, “but keep going.”

“I like kissing you.” It’s blunt and to the point. Taekwoon feels like he could double over from Hakyeon’s words. This is too much. “But, I’ll admit, that’s not all there is to it anymore.”

It’s not a confession of undying love, but Taekwoon knows that Hakyeon is at least considering the legitimacy of this. This isn’t a fleeting thing. A dying spark. Taekwoon feels his worry lessen some. “And I like kissing– kissing you, too. And I second all of that. What you just said. The everything.”

Hakyeon sighs, looking content, and lets his hand rest on Taekwoon’s arm. “I should’ve just been a poet,” he muses out loud, on a drastic subject change. “My mother would have been happier with it.”

 

  
Hakyeon recovers well enough. His shoulder wound is almost all the way sealed, but he’s been warned that it will open right back up if he makes a wrong move. It’s highly not suggested that Hakyeon leave bed rest, but he’s itching to do something, and Taekwoon can’t bear to keep him there any longer.

Hakyeon relishes being at Taekwoon’s side a little too much.

It’s the first day out of bed when Hakyeon makes it to Taekwoon’s chambers, bursting inside, over-eager. Taekwoon follows behind him, slower, and waits for it, waits to hear––

“It’s so clean.”

Taekwoon takes a deep breath and strides into his bedroom and throws himself across his bed. He doesn’t answer Hakyeon’s observation.

“Too clean.” Hakyeon’s looking at Taekwoon now. “And it smells,” a deep whiff, “ugh, it smells horrible.” Hakyeon wanders around the room for a bit and finally gives up. “Fine. I don’t get it; what are you trying to say?”

“I haven’t slept in here,” Taekwoon admits. It’s clean because no one’s lived in these rooms in over a month. The smell is from stale air and blood that never left. Taekwoon swallows. “Not since–– yes.”

“Oh.” Hakyeon’s eyes go big, and his fingers twitch like they do when he’s unsure. He clasps his hands together. “Why?”

This is the hard part. Taekwoon throws an arm over his face so he can gather up the courage to actually say it. “Safety. And I–– I was….”

Hakyeon waits for him to finish.

“Scared.”

“Taekwoon.”

The prince sneaks a peek at Hakyeon. “But I’m not anymore. Not really. I mean, I came back here.”

Hakyeon walks closer to Taekwoon, his arm in a sling and bandaged to the point of immobility, and Taekwoon knows Hakyeon isn’t strong, but he feels safe with him, just at his side, and he can’t think of a better way to say this. “I want you to stay here. With me.”

Hakyeon stops before Taekwoon, thighs pressed into Taekwoon’s knees that dangle off his bed, and flicks hair out of his eyes with a jerk of his head. “In…in here?”

Taekwoon nods.

“Now this is what I’ve been waiting for since day one.” Hakyeon takes his finger and traces the outside of Taekwoon’s thigh, down to his knee, and grins.

Taekwoon colors and goes back to hiding his face. “Not like that. You’d sleep out there,” he directs Hakyeon’s focus to the outer-chambers. “You can’t….”

“Can’t what?”

Taekwoon bites his lip.  
“What; what can’t I do?”

“Sleep in my bed, Hakyeon. There are people who come in here and watch, and–– and….”

Hakyeon shrugs with one shoulder. “Alright, whatever you say.”

It’s a shame that Hakyeon’s so persuasive because hours later, after the dark has blanketed the castle, Hakyeon’s doing the best he can to convince Taekwoon otherwise. He has a hand fisted in the hair at the back of Taekwoon’s head, nosing his way down the prince’s clothed chest, and Taekwoon’s sprawled beneath him.

“Your shoulder,” Taekwoon breathes out on a hitched breath.

“Damn my shoulder, I’m going crazy.”

There’s no way they can do this with Hakyeon’s shoulder as it is. That would be quite the story, showing back up in front of the nurses because the prince’s bodyguard “randomly” started spurting blood from his shoulder. No, no, there won’t be any of that tonight.

“Hakyeon.” Taekwoon stops kissing him back and tries to convey his thoughts properly. “Hakyeon, I’ll– I’ll take care of you tonight, okay?”

Taekwoon gently switches places with Hakyeon so he can rest against the bed. He’s never done this before, but he’s never been kissed or kissed someone dizzy before. There’s a first time for everything. Taekwoon just undoes Hakyeon’s pants, peeling them from his waist a bit, as he’s not up to undressing and redressing Hakyeon in the dark, and he can hear Hakyeon make a noise of disapproval at the lack of un-removed articles of clothing.

“Just for now,” Taekwoon promises. “When you’re better––”

“Okay, okay; please, just–– Taekwoon––”

The prince leans down and wraps his mouth around the archer.

Outside the prince’s chamber doors, the guards put off any noise coming from within as Hakyeon whining about his shoulder pains. They heard him moan and groan the whole way here, the prince just letting him carry on like that, and it’s disgraceful really, but they don't talk about the mysterious mercenary-turned-bodyguard as most in the protective circles around Prince Taekwoon do enjoy Hakyeon for what humor he gives them.

He’s like the prince’s cousin except not as annoying.

Hakyeon takes time to learn their names, what they do, who they know, and it’s strictly for his job, to keep the prince safe, but it also feels like he cares about them more than any commander or authority they’ve been under. The information is all on file in Hakyeon’s head, though, and that only makes it more concerning when he calls you by name and asks you about the girl back home that you mentioned to him once. Hakyeon is dangerous.

“D– Don’t stop,” Hakyeon pants.

Hakyeon never mentioned who he worked for before coming into service of the king; the prince found him in the woods –– most likely he lives somewhere in there –– and here he is now. He’s rather strange. It’s very peculiar how the prince trusts him so much, but the prince has always been thick. He’s the one who got himself lost in those god-forsaken woods.

It wouldn’t be a surprise if the mercenary was the one who organized the attack on the prince.

“Say he’s got a debt to settle,” some usually say around late-night fires. “It’d be real easy to off the prince. He’s always with the blue-bloods; a quick slice of the throat is all it takes. And if he wants to aim higher, the king isn’t that much of a stretch. He could do it.”

“Taekwoon,” Hakyeon cries quietly. He shoves his arm into his mouth to keep from making noise.

And even those who like Hakyeon have begun to doubt him. “He’s charming, but he’s got those eyes. And he walks around here like he owns the place; I hate to say it, but it makes a person wonder.”

Taekwoon firms his hold on Hakyeon’s hips, letting Hakyeon rock into him but stopping him from moving around too much. That shoulder. “I–– Taekwoon, I’m––”

That’s all the warning Taekwoon needs.

Outside the doors of Taekwoon’s chambers exists a very different standard that Hakyeon’s held to. Outside, his finer points –– how he loves, how he cares –– aren’t allowed to be shown, and that might be Taekwoon’s only regret from this whole thing that they have together. And Hakyeon knows what’s said about him, but does the prince know? Perhaps. But perhaps not.

“He should be told,” the guardsman on the left says to the one on the right. “He needs to know.”

The other waits, and after a particularly loud moan from the interior punctuates the silence of the hall –– will the bastard shut up? –– he nods. “For…his sake.” And that’s the decision on the subject.

But inside, Taekwoon wipes his mouth, sweat dripping from his brow, soaking his clothes, and is about to get up when Hakyeon hooks a hand into the edge of his pants and drags him back. “Incapable or not, you’re getting your turn, too.” With one hand (and both of Taekwoon’s), the pants are worked open, and Hakyeon is smiling –– Taekwoon can hear it. “Just hush up, alright?”  
Taekwoon promises.

 

  
Hakyeon makes it a habit to sleep on Taekwoon’s bed. It’s likely because Taekwoon told him he couldn’t, and Hakyeon usually goes for logical decisions, but for some reason every time Taekwoon wakes up he sees rumpled covers where the outline of Hakyeon’s body shouldn’t be.

“I wake up early enough to move,” Hakyeon excuses himself. “Besides, someone has to protect you in your sleep. Just in case.” He winks here, and Taekwoon decides Hakyeon is gross.

Hakyeon winks again and this causes a pillow to be chucked at his head.

They haven’t tried anything beyond kissing after the first night in Taekwoon’s room, and that was nearly a fortnight ago. Hakyeon was rather loud during the whole thing, but Taekwoon thinks they got away with it; it just wouldn’t be wise to try again so soon. The memory is a sweet one in Taekwoon’s head. He’ll pull it up at least once a day, like that really happened.

Taekwoon’s not sure if Jaehwan’s just perceptive or if he took a wild guess because he keeps dropping suggestive hints around Taekwoon, implying things about under-the-covers happenings, but Taekwoon’s riding on a high and can’t bother with it.

His high lasts about two more days before he’s confronted by a few of the guards that usually patrol the corridors on his side of the castle. The oddest part is that they ask to speak to Taekwoon alone, without Hakyeon’s presence. Hakyeon objections are immediate, but the more the men push for it, the more Taekwoon’s resolve crumbles. They’re earnest and, Taekwoon thinks, genuine; Hakyeon’s sent to stand outside the door.

“I don’t like it,” Hakyeon growls.

“It can’t take too long,” Taekwoon reasons. “And you’re right here.” Taekwoon shuts the door on Hakyeon’s frowning face, and returns to his outer-chamber to sit in a plush chair as the men stand before him.

“Alright.” He steeples his fingers as his elbows rest on the arms of the chair. “What is it you have to say?”

The first man, balding and a wisp of a beard growing at his chin, steps forward and bows his head in respect prior to launching into words. “My prince, some of us are concerned.”

Taekwoon’s brows crease on his forehead. “Concerned?”

“We would like you to hear us out for what we have to say because it’s about yourself. Or rather, your company.”

Taekwoon blinks and realizes they mean Hakyeon.

“The Hakyeon man, we feel, is a danger to our security.” At Taekwoon’s silence, the man pushes on. “He’s entirely too personal with you and too close to rest of the royal family. It’d be very easy for him to assassinate any one of you –– all of you.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, n–no. Your majesty, you do remember he’s a mercenary, does that not worry you in the least? He’s paid by your father to keep you safe, but, well, what if he received a higher price from someone else to do the opposite?”

“Hakyeon wouldn’t––”

“And, forgive me, a number of the people in your father’s service don’t trust him.” The man takes a deep breath and continues, “The attack arranged on you had to have been organized by someone on the inside. Someone who could get in those who attacked you and lead them to your chambers.”

Taekwoon lets out a sigh. “And you think that’s Hakyeon?”

“It would make sense––”

“And I assume you’ve brought this to my father?”

“Yes, sir.”

Taekwoon nods. “Thank you; I’ll consider your words.” He rises and the three men realize that they’re dismissed. They look eager to continue, but Taekwoon insists that their time is up and sends them out the door with a blank face. The men grumble when they see Taekwoon invites Hakyeon back inside.

“What did they want?”

Taekwoon pecks Hakyeon on the cheek. “Not much.”

Hakyeon knows Taekwoon’s saving words from him, but he doesn’t push. He leaves it alone. And Taekwoon feels bad because he has thought about the possibility of Hakyeon being enticed by a new employer on several occasions, and he knows that the ones who invaded Taekwoon’s room were intent on killing Hakyeon as much him, but that does nothing to quell the thoughts of: What if Hakyeon does leave him one day?

“I love you,” Taekwoon whispers as he pulls away, and he can feel Hakyeon freeze under his touch.

His father’s birthday quickly approaches, and it’s at Taekwoon’s fitting that Hakyeon says, “Me too.” That’s all; that’s it. But Taekwoon feels his chest lighten, and the woman taking his measurements snaps at him to keep still. When he gets down from the stand, he tries to force the smile off his face and finds that he can’t.

The prince is back on the clouds.

The king’s birthday means a celebration, and a celebration means a ball of some sorts is being thrown that Taekwoon is required to attend. Taekwoon, naturally, drags his feet at the idea. “It’s dancing,” Taekwoon complains. “And talking, and dealing with problems, and things I’m not good at.”

“You’ll do fine,” Hakyeon assures him. “It’s everyone else I’m worried about.”

Taekwoon knows Hakyeon doesn’t like the idea of the ball, but it’s too bad; Taekwoon doesn’t like it either.

Soon enough, Taekwoon’s surrounded by flirtatious nobles and whiny adolescents. A parade of puffy skirts twirl around him along with tucked in gentlemen. Taekwoon’s one of those men, hair slicked back and buttoned up, and he feels so stiff.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

Jaehwan’s sidled up to him, and Taekwoon feels the urge to sidle away. “Yes, oh, so much fun. When will this be over?”

“You just got here.”

Taekwoon grumbles.

“So, where’s the boy? I know he’s not far from you––” Jaehwan doesn’t finish his sentence before Hakyeon materializes out of thin air, leaning against the wall beside Taekwoon.

“It’s so dense in here; I’ve been groped at no less than four times.” Hakyeon may be grumpy, but he looks so put together. His hair swept back in a matching style to Taekwoon’s and Taekwoon swears he lined his eyes with kohl. He wears all black and embodies all Taekwoon’s ever wanted; Taekwoon stands a little closer to him.

Jaehwan smirks. “Groped, huh? Hear that, cousin? Sounds like you need to––”

Taekwoon puts a hand over Jaehwan’s face and shoves him away. “Where’s that girl you were sneaking around? I think she misses you.”

Jaehwan winks as he slithers away.

Taekwoon and Hakyeon aren’t exactly alone, but this crowd of people is so thick that not everyone could have their attention on them, so Taekwoon stands even closer, nearly tucked neatly into Hakyeon’s side. Hakyeon looks at him. “Rather bold.”

Taekwoon wrinkles his nose.

“Come on, don’t pout. Just…I know I’m not happy about this but enjoy yourself.” Taekwoon takes Hakyeon’s words to heart and grabs one of his hands within his own. “You know, that’s not exactly what I meant but okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Hakyeon chuckles back, and Taekwoon smiles. The archer leans in close and puts his lips against Taekwoon’s ear, just laughing, and it tickles. Hakyeon’s lips pucker up and press one –– no, two –– kisses on his lobe, and Taekwoon is threatening to burst.

“Please,” he asks quietly. “Stop.”

“Aw, I thought you liked this.”

Taekwoon bats his hand at Hakyeon’s chest. “Shut up.”

“But in all seriousness, you need to get back up there.” Hakyeon points over to where the king and queen are sitting, Taekwoon’s sisters lined up beside them. They’re allowed to move around, yet Taekwoon isn’t. He’s remains under tight surveillance.

“I hate being under watch.”

Hakyeon mouths at Taekwoon’s jawline. “Mm, but it’ll make me feel better.” Taekwoon thinks no one will be able to tell that his bodyguard is attached to him at the face, that maybe it looks like Hakyeon’s sharing a secret with him in the loud room.

Taekwoon sees the attendant before Hakyeon does. A well-placed elbow to Hakyeon’s rib separates his mouth from Taekwoon’s jaw, and he’s about to say something about it when he realizes just who’s standing there. Taekwoon inquires, “Does my father need me?”

The attendant shakes his head, looking at Hakyeon instead. “Sir, the king wants you to see him.”

Hakyeon slowly disentangles their hidden hands. “Oh?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hakyeon motions for Taekwoon to follow after him. It seems like this is Hakyeon’s ticket to getting Taekwoon back with the group, but the attendant holds up a hand. “Your father wanted you to find your cousin. They have been unable to locate him.”

Taekwoon’s eyes rake over the crowd, and Jaehwan’s somewhere in it. Shouldn’t be too hard to find him. Hakyeon opens his mouth, not eager to be apart, and the attendant reminds him, “It’s urgent.”

“The prince’s safety is urgent as well.”

The attendant purses his lips.

“Hakyeon,” Taekwoon directs, “it’s okay. I’ll find him.” Taekwoon peels away from the wall to prevent more words from being said, and he can feel Hakyeon’s worry hit him as he walks away. He’s eager to get a few more minutes apart from the intense scrutiny –- Hakyeon’s worries be damned. And Jaehwan shouldn’t have gotten that far away; he was just talking to him not that long ago.

Girls gaggle and boys boast, and Taekwoon parts them all aside as he looks for his cousin. The girl he’s after, Taekwoon’s seen her before. She’s a pretty thing with big eyes and dark hair and dimples, so she should be easy to recognize along with Jaehwan. Where could he be?

Unless the two snuck off, out the ballroom, and are….

Taekwoon groans. He doesn’t want to look now that he might find Jaehwan in a compromising position. Please, spare him the imagery. Taekwoon’s about to give up when he feels the sting in his thigh and a coldness spread over him.

Whatever it is that’s been injected into him, it acts fast.

The room spins before his eyes, and Taekwoon tries to raise his arms to fend off who or what may be attacking him, but they’re limp and useless at his sides. “That’s a nice good lad,” says the voice in Taekwoon’s ear; it’s Northern accented. Taekwoon tries to put that together with the rest of the information in his head, but it won’t go. “Now be a doll and walk toward the door.” Taekwoon digs his heels into the floor and feels a blade rest at the base of his spine. “Ah, I wouldn’t do that. Start walking and nothing happens to that boy that you call a cousin. That’s right; there you go. Just like that.”

Taekwoon’s thoughts blend together and all he can come up with is, “Let…Jaehwan…go.” His breathing is already so labored, like he’s underwater, breathing through a reed shoot, and Taekwoon struggles to part with the words.

The man scoffs and presses his mouth to Taekwoon’s ear, just where Hakyeon was kissing not a minute earlier. “Can’t do that until you come with us.” He holds out the crest that was sewn into the front of Jaehwan’s jacket, cut raggedly from the cloth, and there’s a mysterious dark stain across it. “Believe me. We’ve got him.” Taekwoon yells, but no sound comes from his mouth, only silence. “Lovely sort of poison, isn’t it? Pretty soon, you won’t be able to walk. You’ll have to crawl out of here.”

The numbness spreads up through Taekwoon’s body. It’s not enough to make him drop to the ground, but he can feel the strength in him leaving, the knife at his back etching in deeper. “Keep walking,” the rough voice growls, and the knife sinks into his skin. Taekwoon can feel the warm blood start to trickle down his back.

Taekwoon doesn’t dare stop. He can’t fight back, his body being reduced to mush by the second, and his breathing is becoming more and more shallow. His only hope is that someone notices the prince hasn’t returned with his cousin, and that can’t be too much longer. It never is.

Taekwoon and his kidnapper slip from the ballroom, and the guards at the door let them pass like the prince being held at knife-point is perfectly alright. Taekwoon shuts his eyes. Stupid stupid stupid. Hakyeon was right to not trust them.

The hallways are deserted as Taekwoon’s led through them, only moonlight streaming in through the windows. Taekwoon makes a sudden move of lurching his body to the side, but all that gets him is a face full of floor and a boot on his back. “You’re useless,” the man laughs out and digs his nails into Taekwoon to bring him to an upright position.

Another pair of arms grabs at Taekwoon, and there are more people surrounding him, taking him farther and farther away from the ballroom. Away from Hakyeon. Taekwoon fights to stay awake –– it’s the least he can do since he’s incapable of anything else –– and last just a few minutes more. His eyes fall shut when the cool, night air hits his face, and he doesn’t resurface.

 

  
When Taekwoon opens his eyes, the world is on its side. The air is warm and thick; it’s hard for him to swallow. He coughs and–– Oh, his stomach. Taekwoon rolls over and vomits until he’s heaving just from habit, not expelling anything. Sweat clings to his body like a second skin, but he can’t wipe any of it away for his hands are bound together with these thick, frayed ropes. Taekwoon looks at his wrists to see they’ve been rubbed raw. How long has he been asleep?

There’s chatter around him, and Taekwoon recognizes the man who drugged him at the ball –– ugly, with a crooked set of teeth and nose to match –– but he doesn’t know anyone else.

“––be over the border by tomorrow,” one of the men says.

“I don’t like it. We need to leave tonight.”

“But they aren’t going to be ready for us––”

A pair of legs approaches Taekwoon’s position on the floor and lets out a long stream of curses. “He’s awake, and –– ah, fuck it –– he got sick.”

Taekwoon rests his head against the floor, breathing heavy. There’s vomit smeared across his mouth, and he feels disgusting as the sweat starts to dry against his skin, but he can’t do a thing about it. He just wants–– wants….

A sharp boot rams into his ribs. “The hell is wrong with you? Ugh, that’s disgusting.”

The ugly one who got him into this mess –– Crooked, Taekwoon decides to refer to him as –– stands up and walks over to Taekwoon, kneeling in front of his face. Taekwoon grunts as a handful of his hair is grabbed, and he’s being pulled so hard that almost his whole front is off the ground, and all he can do is keep breathing. “It was the poison,” the man explains, gaze connecting with Taekwoon’s. “He should be done by now.” Crooked tilts his head to the side, and then releases Taekwoon.

Head slamming into the floor, Taekwoon almost blacks out again.

“Clean this up,” Crooked orders, and he gets back up.

They’re in a small wooden cabin. It looks like one of those abandoned, countryside homes, and that’s most likely what it is, Taekwoon figures. They have a fire burning in the fireplace, the flames licking at the stones. The heat rolling from it is unbearable.

Taekwoon slips back into sleep at some point, but is jerked awake by loud scraping noises, pounding feet across the floorboards.

“I told you we should’ve left!”

“Shut it!”

Taekwoon flips over onto his back, careful to not roll into where he got sick earlier since no one bothered to clean it, and pulls himself up into a sitting position. “Grab him,” someone hisses, and Taekwoon’s hair is seized within someone else’s hold. He’s getting sick of this.

The fire was put out long ago, but a quick look around shows dead leaves thrown around the cabin in large piles along with dead sticks and branches. It’s like they’re building….

“They’re here,” one of the men chokes out, disbelief and regret in his voice. “They found us, how?”

Crooked points a finger at Taekwoon, taking knives out of his waistband. “Leave him. Tie him to the––” Much like the cougar, Crooked lets out a gurgled cry and falls to the floor, blood leaking from the arrow planted in his neck.

Hakyeon.

Taekwoon’s surge of hope is hampered by the fact that the binds on his wrists have been attached to a metal ring on the floor. It looks like a handle to a cellar, but Taekwoon’s not very concerned with what it is but rather what it might mean for him. “They’re closing in!” someone shouts.

A lot of the men jump out the broken window, allegiances too weak to carry through whatever they had planned, and the few loyal that stay all light small fires in the cabin before escaping to the window as well. Most don’t get that far.

The door bangs open, and Hakyeon is outlined by the night, his bow raised and pointed at those left. Taekwoon feels his eyes sting. He tries to say his name, but it comes out broken and more like a wheeze than anything; Hakyeon hears him.

The archer’s eyes are murderous, face stony, and that’s when the cabin becomes a bloodbath. Crimson flies through the air the remainder of the men are felled, their dying cries beating into Taekwoon’s ears, and Hakyeon goes through his arrows faster than Taekwoon’s ever seen. Gruesome it may be, but the prince can’t bear to look away.

When it’s down to two men, one rushes Hakyeon, and the other uses his knife to ram it into Taekwoon’s neck. The knife doesn’t quiet get there, however, as an arrow strikes him in the head. His aim shifts downward, and slicing pain sets Taekwoon’s shoulder on fire.

And fire is what the cabin is consumed by.

The dead leaves and twigs catch quickly with the small fires set alight, but there’s still time to get out. Taekwoon struggles against his restraints. Hakyeon shouts his name, but Taekwoon can’t see him any longer. He’s not in the cabin, and neither is the last-standing kidnapper; Taekwoon feels desperation start to course through him. “H–Hak…yeon.” Taekwoon realizes he used his chance to save Taekwoon instead of himself.

The flames lick at the walls, and smoke abuses Taekwoon’s lungs further. He starts to cough. His eyes water –– the heat’s rising –– and wiggles his hands so they’ll come loose from the ropes, but fear claws at him. His movements are jerky and insufficient. The smell is worse than he would have imagined, worse than the bloodshed that occurred in his room.

“Taekwoon!” Through the smoke, Taekwoon thinks he sees Hakyeon back in the doorway, but the flames are high, and bits of the roof are starting to collapse. No matter, relief clutches at him.

“H–here,” he squeezes out.

“Keep talking, Taekwoon; don’t stop!”

Taekwoon clears his throat, his wrists and lungs aching, and croaks, “There’s–– there’s a body beside me. It doesn’t smell good in here.”

“Does it?”

“Where’s Jaehwan? He’s…not here. They–they lied.”

There’s a loud noise to Taekwoon’s front, and Hakyeon’s hands are on him in an instant. “First thing’s first.” Hakyeon doesn’t remove the knife from Taekwoon’s shoulder but covers the prince’s face with his own shirt. It’s the very same shirt Taekwoon wore to the ball, dirt-stained and vomit-scented now, and Taekwoon swallows back his emotions. Hakyeon’s fingers are deft at the knots at his wrists, but the flames are getting more intense, and Taekwoon watches as they start to edge toward Hakyeon.

“Come on, come on.” The red glow illuminates Hakyeon’s anguished face, and Taekwoon can see the fear in his eyes; he’s sure it’s mirrored in it’s own. Hakyeon hisses when a flame burns at his knee, and Taekwoon can’t take it anymore.

“Take…the knife. Hakyeon, use it.”

“If I take it out, you’ll bleed out in no time.”

“Don’t and we’ll…die. Hakyeon––”

Hakyeon doesn’t war with himself for long because suddenly, the pain rips through Taekwoon’s shoulder, and Hakyeon’s sawing at the ropes with the blood-stained weapon. Taekwoon watches as the pretty eyelashes are burned off Hakyeon’s face. “Got it,” Hakyeon wheezes out, and jerks Taekwoon into his arms.

The cabin’s disintegrating into ash around them, and Hakyeon drags Taekwoon across the fiery floor. Both of them are choking on the smoke, and Taekwoon really can’t breathe –– he’s burning up. Hakyeon wails as the fire chars him, but he never falters, never stops.

It’s too long before Taekwoon feels grass run underneath him, and Hakyeon only stops when they’re out of the fire’s reach. “I’ve got him,” Hakyeon cries, and Taekwoon wants no one but the archer. “He needs–– needs help.”

Taekwoon can hear the men and horses dance around him, but he’s focused on Hakyeon. He’s all that matters. “No,” Taekwoon stutters out. “Help…him.” Not a single person listens to Taekwoon, though. They keep going on about how they got them all, no one escaped, they have their prince back, but Taekwoon can’t let the attention stay on him. “Hakyeon,” he moans as unfamiliar faces start to rip apart his clothes, examining his wounds. “Look at him, p–please. He’s hurt, too.”

Taekwoon strives to turn his head and catches a glimpse of Hakyeon, hanging back. His face is drawn, a hand clasped over his bad shoulder, and Taekwoon feels the tears leak down his cheeks. “Please, look at him.”

It’s amazing how it takes the prince to dissolve into tears for someone to finally listen to him. One of the men –– Taekwoon still has no idea if these are from his palace or whoever, maybe he doesn’t care –– detaches from the rest and goes to Hakyeon’s side. Tears drip from Taekwoon’s chin, and he groans as a hand brushes over a burn. “He’s all I have,” he whispers, and it’s broken, and it’s dramatic, and it’s halfway true, and no one hears it.

But Hakyeon catches the movement of his lips. Taekwoon can tell from the way he hangs his head and pretends that he doesn’t. Taekwoon’s eyes rip away from Hakyeon when hands continue to probe at him, and he seals them shut.

 

  
Hakyeon’s shoulder reopened on that night. All the healing gained was lost in a matter of minutes, but Hakyeon swears it was worth it. Not that Taekwoon argues.

“I noticed something was wrong instantly,” Hakyeon also swears. “Just no one wanted to listen to me. Soon enough, though, they couldn’t argue with me any longer because you weren’t back, and Jaehwan was discovered beaten unconscious and stuffed underneath a stairwell.”

Jaehwan’s alright, though. His pretty girl sits at his bedside and curses his name, but he’s alright. His mouth, unfortunately, didn’t suffer from it. “Went and saved you, did he?” Taekwoon tries not to visit his cousin too often, but when he does Jaehwan makes sure to give him hell. “He was worried sick, marching around here like a maniac. Took charge of the whole rescue, he did.”

Hakyeon also described to Taekwoon how it was two days before they could track down the kidnappers, agents of the rival kingdom from the North. “I don’t understand how some of these boys get dressed in the morning. Your security is horrendous; I couldn’t believe how hard it was for me to lead a party to go look for you –– mercy, mercy, please never go missing again. I don’t have the strength.

“But where we found you was right at the border. One more day and you would have been lost in the marshes.” As Hakyeon relayed this part, his eyes got this funny look in them, and Taekwoon flushed head to toe. “I may have never found you, then.”

“They wanted to leave that night,” Taekwoon mentions an afternoon a few weeks after Hakyeon is well, his burns shrinking and his eyelashes starting to sprout again. Taekwoon’s still nursing his wounds. “They had two plans, I believe. Either take me North or…kill me on the way.”

“Not surprising,” Hakyeon says, hands clasped behind his back. They’re standing under a shady tree in the garden, angled in such a way that the guardsmen can’t see them. “They weren’t completely numb in the head, after all.”

Taekwoon frowns.

“But they did fall out the window on their asses –– it’s little things like that, Taekwoon. Stupidity runs rampant. If I was their little leader, they’d look much better than that.”

“Hakyeon.”

“Sorry, I, uh…. That sounded bad.”

“A tad.”

Hakyeon peeks over at Taekwoon, who’s been watching him the whole time, and licks his lips. “I didn’t mean that. I wouldn’t. I just mean –– Taekwoon,” Hakyeon clears his throat. “Shortly after I arrived here, I was contacted by a third party.”

Taekwoon’s stomach sinks.

“And, I–– well, I just want you to know that I considered their proposition and,” Hakyeon turns so that his chest is nearly brushing up against Taekwoon, “I refused.”

“And you’re satisfied here?”

“Yes.”

Taekwoon inclines his head, ignoring the pain that laces through his shoulder and into his neck. That wound hasn’t completely healed, and Hakyeon keeps chiming about “matching battle scars.” Taekwoon takes his good hand and wipes at Hakyeon’s face; he’s got some form of dirt smeared under his eye. He was out training the boys in the barracks this morning and hasn’t cleaned up from it; that’s his new self-proclaimed duty now, to tidy up the sloppiness in the guard.

“And,” Taekwoon murmurs, “all your needs are taken care of?”

Not missing a beat, Hakyeon replies, “All of them.” They sneak in a kiss under the tree, but Hakyeon is quick to say, “I’m not all you have. You know that, right?” Taekwoon’s quiet, and Hakyeon promptly lists, “Jaehwan, your parents, your sisters––”

Taekwoon chuckles. “I know. You’re not everything, Hakyeon. I was under stress; I was…emotional.”

“Maybe we both should be writing bad poetry, huh? We could do it. I’ll buy us some journals, and we’ll write down every terrible line, and––”

Taekwoon dives in for another kiss. “Shut up. For once, just shut up.” Hakyeon gives them a moment of silence to get their heart rates higher, and Taekwoon has Hakyeon making these breathy moans that tickle his hears and make him smile. Taekwoon feels his heart swell.

But Hakyeon comes up for air and looks Taekwoon in the eye. He’s serious, and Taekwoon wonders what he could possibly have to say; he’s through talking. Hakyeon opens his mouth and assures, “Though, we will keep working on your aim; don’t think you can escape that.”

Taekwoon groans.

**Author's Note:**

> \- thanks to vixx for inspo Always  
> \- thanks to the enablers who unknowingly made me write this so long ago  
> \- and thanks to you for reading, have a nice day!✨


End file.
